The Very Peculiar Haunting of Hermione Granger
by alb33
Summary: Hermione gets roped into a bet with Fred and George. She knows the Shrieking Shack isn't haunted, so it'll be easy money, right? Maybe not considering that the twins have other ideas. Entry for the Twin Exchange October 2012 Title Swap Challenge.


**A/N: This is my entry for the Twin Exchange October Challenge Title Swap. Title courtesy of krystal214.**

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"Nobody's been inside the Shrieking Shack in years. Not since the _last time_."

"What happened the last time?"

"I don't think you want to know."

"We can't bear to tell you and tarnish your young, carefree, and innocent mind."

"Please, tell us!"

"Yes, tell us!"

Hermione, who had paused to hear Fred and George's conversation with the group of first years, saw the twins look at each other and smile. She pursed her lips, wanting to stop them from feeding the eleven year olds nonsense, but at the same time, actually curious to hear what story they were going to tell.

"Well, it all started _years_ ago. It must be about fifty now," George began in a low whisper. The first years, consisting of two boys and a girl, leaned forward, their eyes wide.

"The Shrieking Shack was once a very nice place. Nothing like it is now," Fred continued. "You see, a family actually _lived _there. They were a pleasant, normal family, living in a pleasant, normal house. That is, until the accident."

"What happened?" the first year girl asked.

"The family had two kids, a boy and a girl, who were about your age. One Halloween night, the two children were awoken by a noise in the attic."

"What sort of noise?"

"The sound of footsteps scraping across the floor and the dull clank of chains."

"What was it?"

"We're getting there," George said.

"Being awfully brave children, they instantly went to investigate. They snuck up to the attic as silently as they could, and right as they opened the door…." Fred lowered his voice so much, that Hermione, still eavesdropping a few feet away, found herself struggling to hear.

"What happened?" the first year girl whispered, leaning forward. The two boys did the same.

Fred and George suddenly let out loud yells. The first years, in turn, began to scream and the whole common room fell silent.

"Carry on," Fred called to the room, waving his hand. "Nothing anyone needs to worry about."

"What was that for?" one of the first year boys asked angrily. Hermione had to agree wholeheartedly. What were Fred and George thinking? Telling them a scary story wasn't the problem. It was the fact that it was complete rubbish and these impressionable, gullible first years were going to believe them. She rolled her eyes. This was just wonderful. When the twins weren't testing their products on first years, they were scaring them.

"It added to the story," George shrugged.

"That can't be the _end_," the second first year boy scoffed. "It can't be over."

"No, it's not," Fred said, looking at the boy and smirking. He lowered his voice once more. "The screams of their two children were what the parents woke up to. Upon searching the house, they found their dead, bloodied children on the attic floor. The parents packed up and left right away, but to this day, the screams can still be heard."

"Not true," first year boy number two said in a know-it-all tone. "My older brother said the noises stopped years ago and I haven't heard anything since I've been here."

"You haven't been to Hogsmeade," Fred said, raising an eyebrow, "and that's where you have to be to hear the screams. If they could be heard from all the way up here in the castle, well, those children must have had some impressive lung capacity."

"I think it's a load of rubbish," the boy said. Hermione had to fight back a snort, especially as she saw the irritable looks on Fred and George's faces.

"You're no fun," Fred muttered.

"Neither are you," the boy retaliated. "That was a terrible story."

Hermione couldn't help it. She let out a laugh and the group in front of her turned.

"Oh, good, Hermione," Fred said. "You're a prefect. Please give this charming young man a talking-to. He broke some rules."

"What rules would those be?" Hermione asked.

"Not recognizing and appreciating a good story when he hears it," Fred said as George nodded energetically at his side

"I see," Hermione giggled. She looked at the first years.

"Those aren't real rules," the know-it-all boy said.

"No, they're not. Why don't the three of you run along? I'll have a talk with these two." She tipped her head towards the twins.

Fred and George actually pouted as the first years scurried away. However, the 'rule breaker' boy made enough time to turn around and pull a face at the twins, pulling the sides of his mouth up, the corners of his eyes down and sticking out his tongue. Laughing, he turned and ran away as Fred and George scowled.

"Annoying little prat," George muttered.

"He kind of reminds me of you two," Hermione said, taking one of the empty seats across from the twins.

"How?" Fred asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Did you see the face he made?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We don't make faces like that," Fred said indignantly.

"Anymore," Hermione smirked. "But I get the feeling you did when you were his age."

"Yeah, well, he kind of reminded us of you."

"Yeah?" Hermione asked. She fought the urge to sigh. She already knew why the boy reminded the twins of her.

"Yeah, because he thought he knew _everything_," George continued.

"I don't think I know everything," Hermione sniffed.

"No, I suppose you don't have to think you know everything because you actually _do_ know everything," Fred smirked.

"Anyway, getting back on track," Hermione said, slightly irritated. "Why did you tell those first years such a rubbish story?"

"It wasn't rubbish!"

"I'm sure you know it's not true. And I know you know that boy was right, however much you don't want to admit it. Nobody's heard a sound from the Shrieking Shack for years."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean it's not still haunted," Fred said. "Just because we made up the actual story doesn't mean there's a real story out there somewhere."

Hermione bit her lip. She knew there wasn't a real story. Not one explaining why the Shrieking Shack had been "haunted" anyway. Instead, there was a story that explained exactly why it _wasn't_ haunted and Hermione knew what it was. She had known for two years now.

"You're quiet," George observed. "Does that mean you believe us?"

"No," Hermione said. "I don't believe you. The Shrieking Shack is in no way haunted."

"What makes you say that?" Fred asked, leaning back in his chair and grinning at her. "Is it because you know everything?"

Hermione glared at him.

"Either tell us exactly how you know the Shrieking Shack isn't haunted or admit that you know _everything_."

"I do not know everything, but one of the things I do know is that the Shrieking Shack is not haunted. Why do I have to explain myself? Why can't you just trust me?"

"Want to bet on it?"

"No."

"Why not? "

Hermione paused as she looked from Fred to George. "It's an easy bet," she said. "I'd win fair and square."

Fred and George raised their eyebrows. "You're that sure of yourself, Granger?" Fred asked, leaning forward and smirking.

"Yes, of course," she replied.

"And you think this is an easy bet?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Then all the more reason to take it, eh?" he said, smirking wider.

"Well, it depends," Hermione said, deciding two could play their game…well in this case, technically it was three.

"Depends on what?"

"How much money?"

"Five Sickles?"

"Ten Sickles," Hermione said.

"Ten?" Fred asked, raising his eyebrows. When Hermione nodded, he glanced at George, who shrugged. "Fine. Ten Sickles. All yours if you go into the Shrieking Shack on the next Hogsmeade visit which just so happens to be on Halloween. Lucky you."

"Hold on. You didn't say I have to go into the Shrieking Shack!" Hermione cried.

"Ah, but how else are you going to prove us wrong?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Fine, but once I'm in, how am I supposed to prove to you there's nothing there?"

Fred looked around the room. "Oi, Creevey! Can Hermione borrow your camera next weekend? It's important."

"Sure," Colin said slowly, "but-"

"Excellent," Fred interrupted. He turned back to Hermione. "All taken care of. You'll be set for next weekend." He grinned and stood up, stretching. "All this betting has made me tired. I'm going to bed."

Hermione sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. At least she was going to win this bet fair and square and when it was all over, she was going to be ten Sickles richer.

* * *

Hermione stood just outside of the Shrieking Shack gate, next to the Fred and George. Word had spread (most likely courtesy of the twins considering they were the only other two who knew about the bet) and now there was an audience standing around, all waiting for Hermione to go inside. Harry and Ron were standing at the front of the crowd, looking amused. She glanced at them and smiled slightly. They knew this bet was easy money for her as well. It was fun knowing a secret that the twins didn't.

"Colin," Fred said seriously, holding out his hand. Colin stepped forward and handed the camera to Fred, who in turn, handed it to Hermione. "Here you go," he smirked.

"Make sure you're careful," Colin said. "I don't especially want another broken camera." He uncomfortably dug his toe into the ground, most likely remembering his first camera which had been broken during his basilisk attack.

"Don't worry, Colin," Hermione said gently. "I'll be extremely careful. And as for ghosts and monsters, well, there aren't any in there to break your camera." She looked pointedly at the twins.

"You hope," George smirked. He pushed open the gate, which creaked. "Go on."

Hermione took a deep breath before walking through it and heading for the Shrieking Shack's front door.

"Oh, and Granger?" Fred said.

"Yes?' she asked, turning around.

"Good luck," he said.

"Thanks, Fred." She smiled as his considerateness.

"And if anything happens to you in there, we'll just steal your money anyway," he grinned.

"That's not funny," she replied, narrowing her eyes.

"No, I suppose not," he said. "So, just, well, good luck, then."

"Thank you." She turned on her heel and marched towards the door. She hadn't been in this way before. She had only gotten in using the passageway under the Whomping Willow. The door was rotting and practically falling off of its hinges. She pushed it open. It creaked just like the gate had. Swallowing, Hermione entered the ancient building without bothering to take another look back. Standing in the entryway, she raised the camera and took a picture of the empty room. She didn't see how this was considered proof. Supposing there _was_ something haunting this place, how did Fred and George know that she wouldn't just take pictures when whatever it was wasn't around? And, depending on what it was, she'd be more concerned with running for her life than snapping a photo.

She began wandering around, taking pictures with almost an air of boredom. While the building was still creepy, it wasn't nearly as creepy in the daytime as it had been at night.

When she made it to the top of the creaky stairs, she wandered into the room she had been in two years ago. The one where she had figured out that Sirius was innocent and that Ron's rat was actually a disgusting man named Peter. She wrinkled her nose at the memory, but then smiled. Ron had apologized so many times for being angry about Crookshanks almost killing Scabbers—Peter?—that she had become annoyed and asked him to stop.

Just as she was about to leave, she heard a creak. She froze for a second before smiling and shaking her head. She was just being silly. It was simply the wind. She knew perfectly well that this place wasn't haunted. She wouldn't be in here at all if she didn't firmly believe it. Snapping a few more pictures, she turned to leave, but she hadn't made it two steps before she heard another creak from above her. Her stomach dropped unpleasantly. The only thing above her was the attic.

Shaking her head again, she sighed and left the room, glancing down the hallway to where the attic stairs were. She supposed she had to go investigate. Noises or no noises, she figured the attic was what Fred and George would want proof of the most and her showing up with no pictures from the attic would not only make her seem cowardly, but it wouldn't complete the bet.

She made her way towards the stairs and paused, listening. There was another creak and then there came the sound of heavy footsteps coming from above. After a moment, they stopped as suddenly as they had started.

Hermione blinked rapidly as she tried to find an explanation. The creaks could be explained by the wind, obviously, but the footsteps….

Paranoia. That had to be it. There was no other explanation. She had somehow subconsciously let Fred and George's silly tale get to her and now she was imagining things. She chewed her lip. She had to go up there.

Carefully, she started making her way up the dilapidated stairs. Halfway there, she heard the footsteps again and she froze. "Paranoia," she muttered to herself. She was actually beginning to doubt it, but who really cared if she was being stubborn? Who cared if she kept insisting on a logical explanation?

Reaching the top of the stairs, she took a deep breath and pushed the door open. It creaked just like every other door in the house had done. She took two steps into the dim, dusty room and with a whoosh, a creak and a bang, the door slammed shut behind her. She actually jumped before letting out a shriek and curse. Then, she mentally cursed herself for cursing. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath.

"The wind," she said quietly. Opening her eyes, she took another look around the room. It was empty of anything scary or paranormal, but it was cluttered with a lot of junk. She snapped some more pictures, smirking to herself. It looked as if she was going to win.

A few more steps into the room, she heard the unmistakable splatting sound of her shoe coming into contact with something wet, like a puddle of some kind. Seriously hoping it was spilled pumpkin juice, she looked down and her eyes widened. Was that _blood_? And where was it coming from? She followed the trail with her eyes to an old wardrobe a few feet away.

Pursing her lips and continuing to be stubborn and find a reasonable explanation, she headed for the wardrobe. She reached a hand out towards the handle and was surprised to see that her hand was shaking. Trying to calm herself down, she closed her fingers around the handle and pulled.

The silence was suddenly broken by a loud yell and Hermione let out a scream as she felt herself falling backwards due to the force of something (or someone) tackling her. She fell onto a pile of blankets and for that she was grateful. It meant she hadn't hit her head on the floor and that she was still conscious to aimlessly hit and swipe at whatever had attacked her.

"Merlin, Hermione! I didn't know you could hit that hard!"

Hermione felt the attacker move away and, opening her eyes, she gasped. Fred was standing a few feet in front of her, gingerly touching his nose, which was bleeding.

"Oh no, did I do that? Is it broken?"

"No," Fred said, shaking his head. It was then that Hermione saw that he was trying incredibly hard to suppress a laugh.

Blinking for a moment, Hermione's brain finally caught up. "You complete arse, Fred Weasley!" With each word, she hit him with Colin's camera.

"Don't break the camera, don't break the camera!" Fred said, cowering.

"How about break every bone in your body instead!"

"Four hundred and twelve bones is a lot," Fred said, shrugging.

"Four hundred and twelve?"

"Hi, Hermione." George stood up from behind a large trunk across the room and waved cheekily at her.

"George was the one who was walking around, making the footstep sounds. I hid in here the whole time," Fred said, gesturing to the wardrobe.

"And the blood?" Hermione asked.

Fred took a small, empty vial from his pocket. "Fake. You see, when we open our joke shop, we plan to have a line of Muggle joke products and prank items. We came across fake blood in our research. Some people called ache-tors use them, I believe."

"Actors," Hermione corrected automatically. "And how did you two even get inside without me noticing?"

"We conveniently stashed our brooms behind a tree back by the gate," Fred explained. "We simply hopped on them, flew back to the Whomping Willow, went through the passageway and snuck up here when you were in the kitchen taking pictures."

"We knew it wasn't haunted," George said. "We just told those kids the story to scare them. People _like_ getting scared, you know."

"Yeah, we even know the real story," Fred said, "about Lupin."

"How did you know?"

"Lupin told us. Over the summer at Grimmauld Place. We figured out he and Sirius were at school when the people in Hogsmeade seriously believed this place was haunted, so we began asking them about it and they eventually told us."

"I can't believe you two!"

"You can't believe we found out the truth or did all this?" Fred gestured around the room.

"Both!"

"Why, were you scared?" George asked.

"No, of course not, but I could have been hurt when Fred tackled me."

"Ah, but please notice the strategically placed pile of blankets."

"I did notice them, but," she glanced up, "you put them there purposely?"

"Of course. How evil do you think we are?" Fred asked. "We wanted to scare you, not hurt you."

Hermione looked at him and chewed her lip. "I wasn't scared."

"Okay," Fred said, nodding and giving a look that said he clearly didn't believe her.

"What about the bet? Why did you bet with me if you knew this place wasn't haunted?"

"Because we had a plan formulating," Fred shrugged.

"You mean scaring me? If you think I'm going to count you two as ghosts or any other frightening creature, then you're mental. We bet on this place being haunted and it's not."

"We were haunting it, so we hoped you'd agree that we won."

"You two don't count! Do you know what the definition of haunting is?" Without waiting for a reply, she plowed on. "To haunt means to visit habitually or appear to frequently as a spirit or a ghost," she recited. "Since you fit the description of neither a spirit, nor a ghost and since you do not visit or appear her frequently, you are not haunting this place, which means I win. And," she continued, "I think I should be paid double since you tried to tamper with our bet."

"Are you serious?" Fred asked. "We're not paying you double. That wasn't part of the deal."

"Yes, well you coming here and scaring me and trying to pass yourselves off as ghosts wasn't part of it either."

"So you were scared!"

"No!" Hermione cried stubbornly.

"I could do something else to make it up to you, but I shouldn't have to since you weren't scared." Fred smirked.

"It doesn't have to do with me being scared. It's because you came here and tried to convince me that this place was haunted so that you would win the bet."

"What if," Fred said slowly, "instead of paying you double, George and I give you the ten Sickles and then I take you on a date?"

"A date," Hermione repeated.

"A date," Fred said, nodding.

"Will you be going like that?" Hermione asked, pointing to the blood still on his face around his nose.

"No," Fred shrugged.

"Are you going to behave yourself?"

"No promises, but would I really be me if I didn't?" Fred grinned cheekily. "So what do you say?"

Hermione sighed. "Fine. It's a deal."

Fred grinned. "Great!"

"Is it safe for me to come over there now?" George asked. "Hermione's not going to punch me?"

"No," Hermione sighed, "I won't punch you, George."

As the three of them walked back to the still-waiting crowd, Fred gingerly picked up Hermione's hand. She bit her lip to try to hide the smile that was threatening to form on her face.

Later that night, Hermione walked into the common room to see Fred and George sitting on the couch with a bunch of first years gathered around them.

"The Shrieking Shack was once a very nice place. Nothing like it is now," Fred was saying. "You see, a family actually _lived _there. They were a pleasant, normal family, living in a pleasant, normal house. That is, until the accident…."

"Fred and George Weasley!" Hermione hissed angrily.

Fred and George turned and caught a glimpse of Hermione's angry facial expression. "Now, kids," Fred said, trying his best to smile without letting it falter nervously, "always remember that an angry Hermione is scarier than anything you'll see in the Shrieking Shack, so stay away!"

"From Hermione or the Shrieking Shack?" a first year girl asked.

"Both!" George added.

Hermione scowled. Needless to say, she spent the next ten minutes, chasing the twins around the room, trying to make them promise to stop trying to scare first years. Fred only agreed to obey the order if she consented to another date with him. Hermione agreed, the first years cheered, and Fred took a bow.

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**I hope everyone liked it! Don't forget to leave a review and/or vote for your favorite entry on the Twin Exchange profile starting on October 20th!**


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